


Queer Eye for the Recently Out NHL Player

by omgericzimmermann (HMSLusitania)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Jack didn't go to Samwell AU, M/M, NHL!Jack, queer eye AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-03-27 02:09:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSLusitania/pseuds/omgericzimmermann
Summary: Jack Zimmermann, star forward for the Providence Falconers and first out NHL player, didn't mean to end up even more in the public eye, but for the sake of good PR and also the eldritch forces of Tater, Thirdy, and Thirdy's wife, he wound up one of the subjects of the new Netflix show, Queer Eye.He didn't count on the food guru changing his life in more than one way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hail - the victorious dead.  
>  ~~me, i'm the dead~~

Jack regretted agreeing to this the moment his doorbell rang. He shoved Puck behind his knees and opened the door to a crowd of five men – four of whom would be good on defence – and a handful of cameras.

“Hi Jack!” the small, adorable blond said, grabbing his hand and forcing him to shake it. Jack shook it and tried to shoo Puck back into the apartment, since she was trying to get out into the hall to sniff all the guys and the camera men. “And who’s this?”

“Um, this is Puck,” Jack said, letting go of the unfairly cute one’s hand and stooping to wrap his arms around Puck’s legs. He hoisted her off the ground and stepped back to let them all into the apartment. Puck wagged her tail happily. “She’s a rescue.”

“She’s got just the prettiest eyes,” the cute one said, continuing to stroke Puck’s head and getting a tongue to the face for his efforts. To Jack’s relief, he laughed.

“This is – this is how you live?” the redhead asked, scanning the apartment. When Jack answered in the affirmative, he turned and immediately started petting Puck as well rather than look at Jack’s apartment. It wasn’t that he was a slob – Jack knew he wasn’t a slob – but…

Well, it had been five years and he hadn’t unpacked.

“Okay, Bitty, Dex, can I borrow Jack for a tour of his closet?”

Justin. His name was Justin. Jack had learned their names – had been conclusively lectured on their names and their personalities and their skillsets by Tater – but they’d vanished from his head the second the Fab Five walked in the door.

Bitty – who was, unfairly, cuter in person than on TV – stepped back from Puck and ducked into the kitchen with one of the cameras following him. Dex turned to look at the living room like it was causing him personal distress. Jack followed Justin down the hall.

“I don’t think we need Puck for this part of the tour,” Justin said, gently.

Jack looked down and realised he was still carrying his dog. Suddenly very aware there were cameras on him, he set her down and followed Justin into the bedroom. He heard the tell-tale tacking of Puck’s claws on the wood floor while she sought out her favourite toy to show to the new people in the house.

“Okay, so we know from all your interviews and post-game videos that you know how to dress yourself for formal events,” Justin said, gesturing at the suits that lined half of Jack’s closet. “So we know there’s the potential for greatness somewhere in there. What we’ve got to deal with is the every day.”

His eyes flicked over Jack’s outfit and Jack felt like shrinking.

“Is this what you wear when you’re going out?” Justin asked, gesturing at all of Jack.

He correctly interpreted Jack’s silence as confirmation.

“So, babe, you look like you’re dressed to rob a Burger King,” Justin told him gently, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “And now, I know it’s hard, I really do, my husband spent half his childhood in Iowa. It can be a hard habit to break, but if I can break him, you can believe I’m going to break you.”

Jack stared at him, and then nodded slowly.

* * *

“Tell us Jack, what do you do for fun?” Adam asked, flipping through the stack of coffee table books Dex had unearthed somewhere in one of Jack’s boxes. “Because we watched a lot of your interviews in preparation for this episode, and you don’t give the fans a lot to work with.”

“I keep pretty private,” Jack said.

“Sure,” Adam said. “But the thing is, according to your teammates who put you up for this, you keep pretty private from them too, and you’re supposed to be friends. How do you spend a Saturday night?”

“Usually at a game,” Jack said.

“If you don’t have a game,” Adam prompted. “Okay, maybe not at night. What do you do with a day off?”

“Go to the park with Puck,” Jack said. At her name, she came trotting up and leaned against his leg, presenting her head for scratches. Jack obliged.

“And you run, and throw the frisbee,” Adam supplied. “Anything else?”

“Look at birds,” Jack heard himself say. “I did some photography in college.”

Adam smiled and adjusted his glasses. “See? Now we’re getting somewhere.”

* * *

To Jack’s dismay, he walked into the kitchen in time to see Bitty open the pantry, stare at the mostly barren shelves in complete silence for the count of five, and then close the doors. He shook his head like a doctor declaring a patient dead, and then turned around. When he saw Jack standing there, he jumped and pressed a hand to his chest over his pineapple printed shirt.

“Lord, you gave me a fright there, Mr Zimmermann. I didn’t hear you come in,” Bitty said.

“Is my pantry that bad?” Jack asked.

“Honey, the only thing you’ve got in there is protein powder,” Bitty said, not unkindly, but like he was going to cry. Jack, stricken, tried to apologise. “No, sweet pea, you don’t need to apologise. It’s not your fault you’ve been an athlete all your life. We’re just gonna have to go grocery shopping. Get all the basics in place, and then I can teach you some nice, easy recipes to mix in with your chicken and broccoli. How’s that sound?”

Jack thought it sounded boring, but fine. He left out the boring comment.

* * *

“How do you spend your time at home?” Dex asked, although he wasn’t looking at Jack. He had a measuring tape out and was taking down the dimensions of the sunken living space. With his plain – although Jack felt sure they were designer – jeans, white t-shirt, and the pencil behind his ear, Dex seemed like he was the most straight-laced in every sense of the word. The only outward indication that he belonged in the crew of a show called  _ Queer Eye  _ was the fact that instead of a belt, his jeans were held up with rainbow suspenders, and he’d cuffed the sleeves of his shirt.

“Reading or watching Netflix,” Jack said, and wondered if that made him incredibly boring.

“Sounds like me,” Dex said. He stood and slid his tape measure into his pocket. “Quick question though. Did you buy all six pieces of furniture you own at Ikea?”

* * *

 

Jack was evicted from his apartment by Justin and Derek at the crack of dawn on day two.

“Tell me about the look, Jack,” Derek requested. “Because it almost looks like you just haven’t cut it from playoffs yet, but you’ve clearly shaved so…”

Jack awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. It was fluffy, and had always been fluffy. The only time it did anything useful was when it was wet.

“Oh, um,” Jack said. “I just never really know what to do with it.”

“Right,” Derek said. “And this week, we’ve all agreed, is about helping you feel comfortable enough and settled enough to make a connection with the place you live, and the people you spend time with. But you also need to work on making a connection with yourself, right? It’s okay to look in the mirror and think you look good.”

Jack squirmed. “Mostly I look in the mirror and think I look like my dad.”

“Nah, you’re way hotter than your dad ever was,” Justin said from the driver’s seat.

Jack snorted.

“Was that a laugh?” Justin asked, delighted.

“Bro, I think it totally was,” Derek said. “Okay. Let’s fix your hair, man.”

* * *

 

After he finished getting his haircut, and listening to Derek’s lectures on his personal grooming routines and the importance of moisturiser, and after he’d finished clothes shopping with Justin – which was a harrowing experience – he was passed off to Adam. 

“So Jack,” Adam said, taking him on a walk through the park near his house. Adam had collected Puck - or the film crew had, Jack didn’t know and didn’t ask - and Jack’s camera and although Jack didn’t normally take pictures when other people were around, he experimented with the idea of feeling comfortable enough to loop Puck’s leash around his wrist and snap a few photos of the sunlight filtering through the leaves, and of a small child attempting to clean melted ice cream off her wrist. 

“You’re not big on being in front of a camera,” Adam said.

“I’ve been in front of a camera my whole life,” Jack replied. 

“Right,” Adam agreed. “I know. I’ve been a huge hockey fan since I was a kid. I even played in juniors, believe it or not.” 

“Really?” Jack asked. “When and where?” 

“I was in the USHL, Waterloo, Iowa. We would’ve never met,” Adam said. “But I knew who you were. Everyone did. Is that why you did it?” 

Jack shrugged. He’d never answered directly the question of why. 

“I guess,” Jack said. “It was...I guess I figured there was a chance it might carry more weight if it was me who went first.” 

Adam nodded like this made sense and Jack raised his camera to take another picture. By the end of the trail, Bitty was lounging in the sun, letting the rays soak into his golden skin and his near glowing hair, his chin tipped back to get even more sun directly on his face, although his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses Jack felt sure were designer. Jack snapped the picture. 

“And that’s why you decided to be on our show?” Adam asked. 

“I figured as the first openly LGBTQ+ male hockey player, I owed it to my community to represent,” Jack said, deadpan. There was a beat, and then Adam burst out laughing. “Also because Tater and Thirdy more or less made me.” 

Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “It seems to me - if I may - that you’ve been on a bit of a quest to be authentically yourself for a few years, probably since you started planning your coming out. And that’s what we want to do with you this week. We want to help you get to the point where you can really be yourself with your teammates. We’ve figured that maybe you could have some of them over for dinner on Saturday as your final event. Does that sound reasonable?” 

Jack had been over to Tater’s apartment a lot, and to Thirdy and Marty’s houses, and most of them had been over to his apartment once or twice, but usually just to stop by and pick him up for something else. Having them in his apartment for a whole dinner seemed like a lot, and also like it was probably a good goal. To be himself, genuinely, with the teammates he was closest to, in a space that he intended to settle into. 

“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds good.” 

Adam nodded and clapped him on the shoulder again, before depositing him in front of Bitty. 

“So, mister, are you ready to go grocery shopping?” Bitty asked, springing to his feet with a sunny grin aimed in Jack’s direction. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea when this will be updated because my March is Death. Technically, the deaths of the Cathars and _Le Morte Darthur_ but that's neither here nor there. 
> 
> As always, come cry with me on [tumblr](http://omgericzimmermann.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My life is the most well-organised chaos you've ever seen and my day planner is the sort of thing that would make a person cry, were they to look at it unawares. 
> 
> On the bright side, I've accidentally scheduled myself free time, so here you go! 
> 
> This is unbetad, as my usual betas are both in a vastly different timezone than myself, and asleep.

“So, we’re going to talk about the joys of slow cooking.”

Jack nodded, and tried to ignore the cameras, but Bitty hadn’t looked directly at him once since they met in the park and headed for the grocery store. Now wandering around the Providence farmers’ market to look at fresh produce, Bitty seemed determined not to look in his direction, and Jack had no idea what he’d done. Every so often, Bitty would glance at him from the corner of his eye and then skitter away like a spooked horse. Jack had no idea what to make of it.

“You don’t need to live on just broiled chicken, but I know prep time is a problem, so the genius of the crockpot is that you can just put all your things in there in the morning while you stretch after a run or your morning workout, and by the time it gets to be dinner, you’re set to go,” Bitty said. He carried on for a bit, but most of what he said went in one of Jack’s ears and right out the other. And Bitty still didn’t look at him.

When the cameras finally stepped aside to do some background footage of the market and Jack and Bitty were shuffled back towards the car, Jack cleared his throat.

“Did I do something?” he asked.

Bitty recoiled and finally turned to look at him. “Do something? What do you mean?”

“You just – uh – you wouldn’t look at me while the cameras were on,” Jack said, wondering if he sounded as pathetic as he felt.

Bitty stared at him and then lowered his sunglasses down his nose just far enough that he could look at Jack over the tops of them. “Oh sugar, you did absolutely _nothing_ ,” he said. Jack flushed more than he would’ve liked at the endearment. “But with that haircut Derek got you, I was afraid that if I looked at you while the cameras were on they’d pick up me sweating like a sinner in church, and that’s bad for my image.”

Jack had exactly zero idea how to respond to that, and followed Bitty to the car silently. For part of the ride to the shopping district where Bitty would be leaving him with Justin and Adam, Bitty seemed nervous, like he’d maybe overstepped Jack’s boundaries by admitting he thought Jack was attractive.

“I, um, I think you’re cute too,” Jack heard himself say, and then immediately realised he needed to pull his foot out of his mouth. He knew there were cameras in the truck, and surely one of those had just picked up his idiotic confession. “I mean – um – I just – uh--”

Bitty, thankfully, was laughing cheerily at the blush on Jack’s face, and at the next stoplight, leaned across the centre console to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Isn’t that going to go on the cameras?” Jack asked, meek.

“Oh, sugar, they are going to edit that one right out, don’t worry your pretty little head,” Bitty said. “It’s all good and fine if we flirt with you so long as we don’t actually mean it, but anything that looks like it’s going to be more than joking they cut. Especially if it’s me, since I’m the only one of us who’s single.”

Jack nodded, somewhat reassured, and rested his hands on his knees to keep from fidgeting.

“You’re, um, single?” he asked.

Bitty’s laughter carried them the rest of the way to the shops.

* * *

 

Shopping with Justin and Adam wasn’t really an experience Jack ever wanted to repeat in his life, but at the very least with the amount of clothes they bought him, he didn’t think he’d ever have to shop again. Jeans, a constant battle thanks to Jack’s hockey butt, were something Justin insisted on getting him, and teaching him how to have them tailored the same way he had his suits tailored. He also made Jack put some colour into his wardrobe, though not so much that Jack might be too spooked to wear it. The end results weren’t actually that bad, if Jack thought about it objectively. But it was absolutely embarrassing to be taken to the Fab Five loft and coerced into modelling his new clothes for the rest of the group. Jack had spent most of his life actively avoiding modelling opportunities.

And then, suddenly, it wasn’t all that embarrassing. The boys whooped and hollered every time Jack stepped into the living room with a new outfit, but Bitty got progressively redder in the face. When Jack turned to leave the room, he heard Bitty get up and say, “I need a drink. Anyone else thirsty?”

Jack’s grin carried him through the rest of the day.

* * *

 

Jack didn’t recognise his apartment. The only familiar thing about it on first glance was Puck cantering up to him and bouncing and wiggling excitedly until he stooped to scratch her. And then he looked closer. The boxes were gone, replaced by walls of dark bookshelves that held all his books and framed pictures of his parents and his teammates and himself and Puck. The walls, rather than bare, now held expertly framed photographs of Providence that –

“Wait those are my pictures,” he said, abandoning Puck’s fur to look closer at the pictures on the wall. “I took those.”

“Yep!” Adam said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“I picked ones without geese in them, since most people find those somewhat unsettling,” Dex said.

“Geese or pictures of geese?” Bitty asked from the kitchen.

“Both,” Dex and Derek replied.

“And we put this up,” Adam said, steering Jack towards his bedroom. The closet overflowed with the new clothes Justin had picked out, and the ones Jack had previously owned were gone, with the explanation that if he didn’t _own_ anything that made him look like a Burger King bandit, he couldn’t accidentally dress like one. But Adam was pointing at the framed contract on the wall. It was next to Jack’s diploma, and innocuous and ordinary looking, but when Jack got closer, he saw that it was his second contract with the Falcs.

“It’s here to be a reminder,” Adam said. “You’re allowed to put down roots here. You’re allowed to make friends. You and Mashkov both signed eight year no-trade contracts last year. You’re not going anywhere. You get to really make this place yours, you know?”

Jack swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and nodded.

“And besides, you’re thirty, so eight years from now you’re probably gonna be close to retirement unless you pull a Jagir on us, so Providence is really the sort of place that’s going to be your, uh…” Adam floundered for words, and was saved when Puck trotted up to them and sat on their feet. “Your forever home.”

“Thanks,” Jack said quietly, a little surprised he could form sounds at all.

“This is your life here, Jack,” Bitty said, making both him and Adam flinch in surprise. “You are an amazing hockey player, you’re now openly bi, and you’re in Providence to stay, so make it yours. Make it the life you want it to be without worrying it’s all going to disappear in a mid-season trade.”

Jack met Bitty’s eyes for a lot longer than he meant to, and then nodded.

“Now come on, let’s figure out what you’re going to make for the boys on Saturday,” Bitty said, and dragged him off to the kitchen.

* * *

 

When the boys were gone, Jack was left with himself, Puck, and his new apartment. The camera men promised to return for his Saturday dinner with Tater and Thirdy and Marty and their wives, but it was only after the dust settled on Friday evening that he realised he’d forgotten the very crucial step of getting Bitty’s phone number. He wasn’t entirely sure he was allowed to have Bitty’s number, but the boys were right: he was going to be in Providence for the long haul, and so was Bitty, and he got to really be himself from now on, so maybe if he wanted to be himself and do that by asking Eric Bittle on a date, surely there was no harm in that.

He spent Saturday morning in the park with Puck, running and occasionally stopping to take pictures. Maybe if there was a good one of the river, he could have it framed for the bathroom.

The thought took him by surprise, but as soon as he got over the initial shock, it made him smile.

The camera crews had arrived and been let into Jack’s apartment while he was out and were setting up their equipment while Jack headed to the shower. He tolerated the camera following him while he picked one of the new outfits from Justin, and wondered if the boys approved of it from where they were certainly watching this unfold at the Fab Five loft. He wondered if Bitty approved.

The cameras watched while he pulled the ingredients he’d need for dinner from the pantry – which now had food in it that wasn’t just protein powder – and then reached for the fridge. In the centre was a pie with a sticky note on the case’s lid. Jack picked it up curiously.

_I thought you could impress your guests with this for dessert - <3 ERB_

Jack felt himself grin and flipped the note over. To his great relief, there was an instruction to return the pie dish to Bitty in the immediate future, followed by a phone number.

* * *

* * *

 

_Queer Eye Scandal?_

_In the highly-rated show’s fourth season, the so called Fab Five made over the NHL’s Jack Zimmermann, captain of the Providence Falconers, shortly after Zimmermann had hosted a press conference revealing his sexuality to the greater public. Being the first openly LGBT man in the NHL was an unexpected move for the famously reclusive Zimmermann, but it was quickly followed by a similar action from Kent Parson, Captain of the Las Vegas Aces._

_However, since the airing of Zimmermann’s_ Queer Eye _episode (Netflix – February 2021), Zimmermann and one of the show’s hosts, Eric Bittle, have been seen together around various Providence locations, sometimes with a dog identified as Zimmermann’s, and occasionally alone in intimate restaurants. To the allegations of impropriety, representatives for both Zimmermann and Bittle have offered “no comment.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to come cry with me on [tumblr](http://omgericzimmermann.tumblr.com)


End file.
